


Somewhere Far Within

by shotgunsinlace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Older Promptis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace/pseuds/shotgunsinlace
Summary: Noctis may stand before Prompto as a thirty-year-old man, a king at the cusp of reclaiming his throne by any means necessary. The sad truth is that  — godly bestowed wisdom aside — he’s still the same twenty-year-old kid who’s never been kissed.“Last night on Eos. Got any plans?”Written for NSFW Promptis Week over at Tumblr.Day Four:Virginity





	Somewhere Far Within

**Author's Note:**

> I was only able to write a single fic for this week and that saddens me a great deal. But anyhoo, shoutout to [somestarvingartist](http://somestarvingartist.tumblr.com/) and [wantonglances](https://wantonglances.tumblr.com/) over at tumblr for being amazing beta readers! (Finally, some readable content, folks.)

_A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell._

The words linger in the back of Noctis’ head for reasons beyond his comprehension. With a decaying world before him, the remains of Niflheim clinging to the edges of Insomnia’s map, and a scattered group of jaded Kingsglaive looking to him for leadership, he has enough on his plate.

The dredges of a ten-year sleep continue to fog his peripheral vision. His limbs feel heavy and coiled, sluggish despite being perfectly capable of carrying his own weight in battle. He’s cut down more daemons and rogue MTs in the past two days than ever before, his trek through Zegnautus Keep excluded.

Noctis soldiers on as a makeshift errand boy, biding their time before the final march towards the Citadel. Wiping out bases under Cor’s ever watchful eye, searching for batteries and materials that will keep the headquarters running if he should fail.

A decade within the Crystal has reassured Noctis that he will not, in fact, fail. Whether or not it will take more than one attempt is up for debate. All they can do is sit tight and prepare, be grateful for the days he thought he didn’t have the moment they left Hammerhead.

The Light of Providence rests heavy on his shoulders. The power of all he has consumed makes it difficult to exist within his own mortal body, and so he paces. Noctis busies himself with whatever he can at HQ, unwilling to risk the safety of those around him by heading above ground.

_Kiss and tell._

He sighs. Of all that’s been said, of everything he has witnessed since his return, _that_ has to be what sticks to the back of his mind like sourly flavored gum.

“Your Majesty?” says a young woman who’s elbow deep in engine grease. They’ve been trying to fix the last of the power generators until Cindy can grace them with her brains and brawn. “We can take five if you’d like.”

Noctis nods his head. “Sounds like a good idea.”

He wanders out of the corridor and into the hub, where he spots Ignis conversing with Talcott over something he doesn’t quite catch. At the other side of the room he sees Gladio on the phone, pinching his brow in annoyance.

Everyone else is enthralled in their own little worlds, marking maps, taking stock, repairing weapons. No one pays him any heed. They hardly ever do, being gracious enough to grant him space at such a tense and oppressive time.

Noctis makes a beeline for his sleeping quarters and is wholly unsurprised by who he sees sitting on the bottom bunk, foot propped up against the edge of the mattress while he laces up his boots.

Prompto looks up at him, mildly surprised, before smiling. “Hey, bud.”

Noctis stares at his military grade boots before deciding to shut the door behind him and lean against it, the back of his head thunking against the heavy steel in exasperation. “Hey.”

“Something wrong?”

He wants to say _yes of course something is wrong – everything is_ , but refrains. Prompto isn’t dense, and he’s also not an idiot. If anyone standing in the last bastion of this forsaken star knows how wrong everything currently is, it’s Prompto. The same Prompto who once devoured ten Zu skewers on a dare and spent the entire night puking. The same Prompto he wildly chased through the maze of the Nif’s last fortress.

Ten years have passed since then, but to Noctis it still feels like a week ago.

“Everything’s fine and dandy,” says Noctis. He moves what few personal belongings he has on the chair in the corner of the quarters onto the floor, then places it before Prompto, Noctis’ back to the door. “Not a care in the world.”

Prompto scoffs and puts his foot down, then leans forward to rest his elbows over his knees. “Your face says the opposite.”

“I wish we could hop in the Regalia and just drive away. Insomnia already fell more than a decade ago. What’s the point in trying to retake it now?”

The outburst is met by silence. Prompto’s wide eyes and pronounced frown are almost a physical stab through Noctis’ chest.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Noct… man, we’re all in this.”

“I know.” Noctis rubs the corner of his eyes, that never-ending tiredness making itself present in his bones again. He’d very much like to sleep for at least another week, but this time in a warm bed rather than a void composed of nothing but holy light. “Just let me be selfish for a hot second.”

“Be selfish all you need, though I’m sure selfishness isn’t really in your vocabulary.” Prompto makes an amused sound. “You’re too pure.”

“Hardly.”

“Not up for debate.”

Noctis shakes his head but doesn’t refute.

They lapse into another silence, but this is one is far more familiar and welcoming. It’s the same type of silence that often permeated the nights they couldn’t sleep, when Gladio’s snores would keep them up and their thoughts would get the best of them. Not even phone games would be enough to tether, but the mutual quietness shared somehow spoke words kinder than they could ever mutter.

They were silences Noctis wishes he could have found the courage to fill. He fantasized about it quite often, confessing feelings he kept close to his heart. He had wished with all his might that Prompto would just guess, that he would pick up on the signals Noctis was too scared to properly convey.

But nothing ever came from it.

Once Noctis came to terms with the fact that maybe his affections had been misplaced, that maybe, his heart’s true desire was in the form of a lanky blond with self-worth issues and a camera, it had been too late. The spool unwound too quickly for him to hold on. Within the blink of an eye, ten years had passed.

Now Prompto is not lanky. He stands with the confidence of a man who knows his worth and his role in the grand scheme of things. He is a glaive, one of the king’s sworn protectors – the king’s best friend.

“Gil for your thoughts,” Prompto says. “Looking a little out of sorts there.”

Noctis mimics Prompto’s pose, elbows on his knees and chin on a palm. “Do you remember the Assassin’s Festival?”

“How could I forget? Iggy’s nips were on display for all to see.” Prompto grins fondly, closing his eyes to sink into the memory. “The food we ate. The photos we took.”

“Those two guys that kept stalking you.”

“They were so not stalking me! We just kept bumping into them.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“They wanted to know about my camera.”

Noctis lifts an eyebrow. “I think you’re misremembering that day. They wanted to know if you were single or if you were out on a date with me.”

Prompto’s laugh is sudden and loud. “Actually, now that you mention it…”

“The tall one got butthurt when you assured him you only had eyes for a certain mechanic.”

“And then he tried to pat me on the shoulder and you socked him because you thought he was gonna do something else.”

Noctis looks away, still embarrassed by his overreaction. “I was only trying to protect your virtue.”

“By holding my hand the rest of the day and pretending you were my boyfriend.”

“I was not pretending,” Noctis assures him before pausing when Prompto waggles his eyebrows at him. “You know what I mean.”

The way Prompto averts his gaze upward makes him look way older than he is, the dark circles under his eyes appearing almost haunted despite the light topic of conversation and surprisingly amusing atmosphere. His mouth thins into a line before he sighs, bringing his attention back to Noctis in an almost solemn way.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” is Noctis’ instant reply, despite being unsure of what Prompto means. Talking has never been his strong suit to begin with.

“There’s no telling how any of this will go.”

“I know that.”

“Odds of us making it out alive are pretty damn slim.”

Noctis squeezes his eyes shut. He knows this. He’s known for years. “Prompto.”

“You talked about having made peace, how you were ready to face whatever may be waiting for you back home.”

“Dammit, I _have_.” Noctis looks at Prompto and waits for his response, but when none comes, when all Prompto does is smile softly at him, Noctis caves. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I went out of my way to make our trip a little longer, that I continued to delay the inevitable because I… because I wanted to spend more time with you guys? That I hate losing ten years, only to come back to this?” He stops himself only to shake his head. “Sorry. Not sounding very kingly right now.”

“You can save it for the public. It’s just me, man.”

“I know it’s just you, and that’s what scares me.”

“Hey, come on. You know you can trust me not to tell.”

Noctis smiles wryly and says without thinking: “A true gentleman who doesn’t kiss and tell.” He regrets it the moment the words are out there and tries to brush it off with a chuckle. “I’d trust you until the very end, Prompto. No need to remind me of what I already know.”

Prompto falls back onto the mattress and rests his hands under his head, shifting to accommodate the bars underneath the thin padding. He winces and wiggles, clears his throat when he’s found a comfortable spot. “You really not going to say anything about it, huh?”

“If you already know then what’s the point?”

He shrugs. “Figured you’d feel better getting it off your chest.”

“I don’t.”

“So… that’s it.”

“Guess it is.”

“Tomorrow we’ll march into what’s most likely certain death, and you’re doing so without getting kissed.”

Noctis straightens up, shocked that Prompto would even say such a thing. “Whoa, whoa. First, what the hell are you talking about? And two, who says I’ve never kissed anyone?”

Prompto laughs. “You may look like you’re thirty, but being asleep for ten consecutive years means you’re an honorary twenty-year-old. Unless you got busy during your nap, I’m sure you haven’t had the time to pop that cherry you’ve been holding onto.”

Noctis groans as his face warms but he doesn’t deny Prompto’s observation. “That’s mean.” It takes a whole moment for Noctis to catch on to what Prompto is insinuating, however, and when it dawns on him the only thing he can do is try to be casual about it. “You offering to be my first kiss, huh?”

“Only if you’re interested,” Prompto sing-songs.

“I wouldn’t be your first.”

“Does it matter?” With a frown, Prompto sits up again. His blue eyes are wide, almost guilty, and Noctis feels horrible for making the comment. “Iggy once said that first kisses don’t really matter, and the ones that followed are usually forgotten. It’s the last one that really counts. The last person you’ll ever kiss.”

“Feels like you just made that up.”

“I totally did – but what I mean is, I _wanted_ you to be my first kiss. And for the longest time I thought you would be. But you never said anything and you seemed kinda excited about the wedding so I let it go.” Prompto looks down at his hands and flexes his fingers. “I let it go. I waited for you to come back with news about having found the Crystal, but instead all we found was Ardyn boasting how he’d helped you chase your destiny. I waited until the sun didn’t rise anymore, until the people I met would never be seen again once they walked out the door. I waited until you came back.”

“I’m here now.”

“And I’m still waiting.”

Noctis meets Prompto’s eyes and doesn’t shy away from the unwavering gaze. “Alright,” he says, nodding his head, “okay.”

Neither speaks nor moves until Prompto snorts out an ugly laugh that makes Noctis hide his own laughter against his hand. Like flicking a switch the charge in the air is gone, leaving behind a bubbly feeling that fills his chest with something akin to contentment.

Noctis stands up and moves his chair, ready to head out and pick up where he left off, but Prompto is quick to get on his feet and grab his wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Can’t keep slacking off. Got things to do, territories to scout, a kingdom to reclaim. Cor will mow my ass if I don’t show my face around here.”

Prompto makes an agreeing sound but doesn’t let go. “Five more minutes won’t hurt,” he says, and without warming tugs Noctis towards him. “Close your eyes.”

Noctis does the exact opposite. His eyes widen as he cartwheels through fear, embarrassment, hesitance, before landing on giddiness. Prompto’s hand is warm on his wrist, a calloused touch that sends sparks of excitement up his arms and down his spine. His thumb slowly drags across the exposed skin of Noctis’ hand.

“You’re not joking.”

“Why would I ever joke about something like this?” Prompto says, almost wounded.

Noctis doesn’t know what to say, so he closes his eyes.

He waits, shifts his weight from one foot to the other when nothing happens. Here he stands, a grown man dressed in his kingly raiment, impatiently fidgeting like a high schooler.

A soft laugh beside his ear startles him, Prompto’s breath tickling his cheek before his lips finally make contact with Noctis’ jawline. Then again, this time closer to his chin. Each brush makes Noctis huff breathlessly, the sensation entirely foreign but welcome.

Before he can speak, Prompto finally kisses his lips.

It’s brief and sweet, a chaste push against each other’s mouths that carries more power than the one coursing through Noctis’ veins.

Just like that, Prompto pulls away with a dreamy look Noctis has only ever seen him wear when talking about his various crushes back in the day. “Your mouth is so soft,” he mumbles shamelessly, placing a hand over Noctis’ chest. “Do it again.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Noctis quips, but his eyelids are heavy and he craves another taste. He tips his head to catch Prompto’s lips again, and this one lingers. Brush after brush he allows Prompto to guide his hands to his waist where he clings for dear life, especially when Prompto pulls back just enough to swipe his tongue along Noctis’ bottom lip.

Noctis parts his lips to grant him access when a thunderous knock behind him freezes every thought. A surge of panic is quick to set in as Gladio’s voice comes muffled through the door

_“Hey, blondie! Have you seen Noct around?”_

Any complaint or reply is abruptly cut off when Noctis’ back is slammed against the steel slab, Prompto’s body pinning him up and his supple mouth devouring him without mercy. He feels lightheaded when a tongue pushes past his lips, hurriedly and demandingly stroking his before Prompto pulls back with a saucy grin.

“Nope! Go ask Iggy, big guy.”

Noctis is left reeling, staring slackjawed at Prompto.

There’s a beat of silence and then rumbling on the other side of the door. Both stand still until it’s certain Gladio has gone away.

“Whew, that was close. That’d been kinda awkward if— _hmph!_ ”

Noctis cuts him off with another kiss, this one all tongue and very little finesse.

It’s _electrifying_. It buzzes his head like drinking too much alcohol on a hot Duscaen night. Heat pools at the very bottom of his spine and slowly claws its way upward, making his skin feel too tight. Suddenly, he wants nothing more than to grab hold of Prompto and never let him go. He wants his hands on him now, wants him to touch and squeeze and kiss every bit of him.

Prompto returns the kiss with equal fervor, separating only to look down between them with a smug little smile.

“Last night on Eos,” he says, trailing his fingers down the column of Noctis’ neck. “Any plans?”

“You could, uh, keep kissing me that way. That’s… that’s really nice.” Noctis swallows hard when Prompto’s hand trails downward, past his belt buckle, to cup the bulge between his legs. “Oh.”

Prompto presses the foot of his palm to it, switching between wicked squeezes and lightly fondling fingers that outline his erect cock.

Noctis’ legs shake underneath him as he holds onto Prompto’s shoulder, torn between the urge to claim and run away.

“Don’t hide from me, Noct,” Prompto says softly. He steps back and sits back down on the edge of the bed, holding onto Noctis’ hands in order to guide him closer. He isn’t satisfied until Noctis is standing between his knees. “Tell me what you like or don’t like. If you wanna stop we can do that, too.”

Noctis replies by slipping his fingers into Prompto’s hair and tugging, guiding his head back to better access his mouth again.

They kiss slow and languid, bolder in each other’s presence. At this angle he towers over Prompto. Noctis takes what he wants, and Prompto lets him. They drink from each other’s mouths, like the fuel behind their life force.

Prompto’s hands are back at Noctis’ zip in no time, his hands steady as they get to work on undoing it. He doesn’t bother with the belt, reaching in and deftly freeing Noctis from the confines of his pants. Prompto breaks the kiss to sneak a peek and whistles.

“Trust royalty to have a pretty dick.”

Noctis clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling when he spots Prompto’s intent the instant he licks his lips. “Come on, man.”

“It really is.” Prompto wraps his fingers midway down Noctis’ length and moves it this way and that, inspecting every inch of it with a serious face.

“Gods, Prompto, it’s not a joystick.”

“Oh ho, I beg to differ.” Prompto’s grin intensifies when he rests the tip of Noctis’ cock against his bottom lip then smoothly glides it along the seam of his mouth. “Ready for your first blow?”

Robbed of words, all Noctis can do is nod his head.

As quick and efficient as always, Prompto wastes no time in taking his cock into his mouth. Fastening his lips around the tip and sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks. Then pulls away with a sloppy pop and a mess of giggles amidst shaking shushing sounds.

“W-What?”

“All of Insomnia’s gonna hear you if you’re gonna be that loud.”

Noctis shakes his head through the haze of lust slowly spreading through his gut and thighs. “I’m not… Did I say something?”

“Nothing coherent, which wouldn’t help your case if anyone asks what we’re getting up to.”

Cheeks hot he scratches at his neck, completely unaware of making any sort of sound. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You sound hot as fuck.” Prompto takes him in again, bobbing his head with apparent ease.

This time Noctis is mindful of his sounds, but only barely. He bites his bottom lip as Prompto continues to swirl his tongue around his cock, making all matter of obscene sounds that makes a familiar weight grow heavy in Noctis’ balls.

He tries to keep still but his hips cant forward involuntarily, silently begging Prompto to take more of him, to take him deeper, to suck harder, to do _something_.

“I take it back,” Prompto says hoarsely, leaning back a little farther and spreading his knees wider. “Gods, let me hear you, Noct. Ready to come and I haven’t even touched myself.”

Noctis grabs hold to the railing on the top bunk, looking down to see Prompto sporting an erection through his pants. He wants nothing more than to see it, touch it the way his is being touched. He wants, he wants, he wants.

Prompto picks up on it and Noctis stumbles back when he quickly gets to his feet and begins shedding his clothes. Pristine uniform be damned, Prompto casts it aside without so much a though and gestures Noctis to do the same.

His fingers tremble as he tries to deftly remove his raiment, Prompto stepping in to help discard the rest.

A sense of urgency has set in. A need to hurry up and get horizontal.

Prompto is struggling with Noctis’ buckle when he’s peppered with kisses – on the nose, his lips, his jaw, his neck. “Your beard,” he says through a breathy giggle, “feels fucking fantastic.”

“Glad you like it.”

With every article of clothing gone, Prompto pushes him onto the mattress pad and straddles his thighs. He gives his own cock a hurried stroke before squeezing the root of it, looking down at Noctis with a heat he’s never before seen on anyone.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Prompto says, still holding on to himself. “And it’s not like you’re gonna last long, anyway.”

“Rude.”

“Gimme your hand.”

Noctis obeys and hums inquisitively when it’s guided to wrap around Prompto’s cock. It isn’t as long as Noctis’, but it’s notably thicker.

Prompto takes hold of his and gives it a pump, making Noctis’ back arch right off the bed. “ _Oh._ ”

“I’m just that good.” But Prompto’s cockiness is cut short when Noctis catches on, stroking him the way he’d stroked himself countless times before. “Can you… ah, a little tighter? _There._ That’s good. That’s really fucking good, Noct.”

They soon devolve into nothing but breathy gasps and drawn out moans, little aborted whispers meant to be each other’s names.

Noctis watches both their fists glide over their cocks, Prompto occasionally pausing to spit on his palm and ease the friction. The bed creaks along with them, loudly, and Noctis is surprised no one else has come looking for him. Not that it matters, because he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He’d lost track of how many times he had woken up in his apartment, covered in sweat and semen after lewd dreams of fucking Prompto in an empty classroom. For years he kept it to himself, stealing glances and friendly touches, forbidden by duty and fate to take it any further.

But it doesn’t matter now.

Tomorrow they will reclaim their home.

Tomorrow, Noctis knows, he won’t walk out of the Citadel alive. They both know.

The hand on him slows and Noctis is met with a look of sheer desperation, but one unrelated to sex.

“Prompto—”

“Not yet.”

“But—”

“Not until you come with me. On me. _Gods_ , Noct!”

It happens without warning, every bit of energy and magic within him snapping to attention and wrecking him amidst the most mind-blowing orgasm he has ever experienced. His toes curl, heel digging onto the bed as his head snaps back with nothing short of a growl meant to be Prompto’s name.

Prompto holds perfectly still, shoulders trembling from the force of it. His mouth hangs open, caught in a moan Noctis can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears.

They stay like this for however long they both need to, climbing back down from the euphoric high one second at a time.

Noctis closes his eyes, feeling sleep begin to pull at him when Prompto finally speaks.

“I lost my virginity to a Nif refugee in Lestallum,” he says, and his voice is so uncharacteristically quiet Noctis can feel his chest ache for a myriad of reasons. “I remember her telling me that first-timers get to have a wish fulfilled, that that’s something they believed overseas.”

“Does it work?”

“You’re here. So I guess it does.” Prompto sucks in a breath that makes his frame shudder. His head is still tipped back, but the way his words break tells Noctis all he needs to know. “Your turn to make a wish.”

Noctis’ hands move to rest over Prompto’s thighs. He thinks for a long while, foolishly wishing that the Astrals would entertain such childish fancy. But even if they did, there would be no point. His clock is ticking, and these past moments will be as close to bliss as he will ever get.

“As king, it is in my authority to pass this wish to you.”

Prompto laughs, but it is an ugly choking sound that becomes a full-on sob. He slumps forward to hide his face in his hands as he cries, hands trembling even when Noctis sits up and tries to hold them.

He sniffs and is unable to fight back any of the tears that continue to run free, even when Noctis succeeds in pulling his hands away and pressing kisses to his salty cheeks.

“I wish you would stay,” Prompto says, collapsing against Noctis’ chest and clinging to him.

Noctis kisses his shoulder, presses the tip of his nose to each freckle he possibly can.

“I wish I could.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over at [tumblr](http://astramaxima.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
